Nature
by HUTCCCH
Summary: Tyki realizes the details of Noahs' nature, and decides there are some things he isn't willing to sacrifice. Turned from oneshot into epic mulitchaptered. : TykiDevi.
1. Prologue

_"The Earl doesn't want us to be in danger. Afterall, we're the precious 'lambs' that he will offer to God. But I know it can't be helped. It's the nature of us, Noahs..."_

* * *

It's the nature of us Noahs, you know.

It's the nature of us Noahs to be wildly violent when faced with _Innocence_. It's evil and unholy, and those who wield it deserve nothing but the most terrible of deaths. All of us know this, from Sweet Tooth, to Road, to the twin brats, Jasdevi. Even I know it, deep down, but I can't help but wonder...is it really that evil? I usually reject such silly, unnatural ideas, but every since meeting that boy, that card sharp, that possible savior of mine, Allen Walker, they've been plauging my mind.

It's the nature of us Noahs to hate humans. They're vile creatures that pollute this Earth, that shun our clan once they realize what we really are. We all have our stories of the evils of mankind, of when they treated us as if monsters, calling us _demons_, calling us _devils,_ and not realizing _they_ were the unholy ones, _they_ were the blasphemous ones. We all have a deep, genetic grudge against humans, even I. But something about them is so enticing, so interesting, something about them that drags me away from my fellow Chosen Ones to be with my human friends. Something that let me stand there while Allen Walker drove his sword through my chest and rip the Noah from me.

It's the nature of us Noahs to hate in general. We're supposed to hate humans, and _Innocence_, and Excorsists, and humanity, and each other. Because humans are vile, _Innocence_ is evil, Excorsists are pathetic and blasphemous, humanity is a joke, and each other are fucking annoying. But I find, I love. I love humans- my friends, I have a strange relationship with _Innocence_ and Excorists, I love the unpredictability of humanity, and I love my family, and I love Devit.

It's the nature of us Noahs to be filled with visions of death and destruction, to be confident in our abilities to bring an apocalypse to man-kind. To be so sure we'll be able to overcome any evil, like that of the _Innocence_, like that of the Excorsists, and like that of a false God. To be ready to offer ourselves up to the real true God as sacrificial lambs to help him bring upon this doom to an unworthy society. But lately, I've been worrying alot about this upcoming end-of-the-world. Are all humans really that terrible, that they should all be killed like pigs at the slaughter? I can't help but wonder.

It's the nature of us Noahs...but I realize, I have a different nature. I don't go wild with fury at the sight of _Innocence_, I find humans intruiging, I love passionately...

And above all, I try my best to reject the idea of the apocalypse. Because there are somethings that I refuse to let be sacrificed. There's some_one_ that I plan to save from such a gruesome fate, despite his obvious eagerness to be a precious 'lamb'.

Devit just doesn't understand, he's above that. He's above giving himself up for such a silly cause, and I am completely comfortable in going against my Noahs' nature to save him.

Nature always has an exception.

* * *

A/N: ...I kinda don't like this. Tyki seems a bit OOC. But whatevs. Maybe I'll make it into an epic story? I don't know. Let me know what you think, on what I should do.


	2. 1

_Flames dance wildly, flashing knives and burning eyes. Small, delicate hands hold glinting silver to ashen necks. Naive golden eyes search for their twin pair in excitement, anxiety, fear. He watches, aware of the wild animal excitement in his gut, in his chest, bursting from his forehead. Drums are filling the space around them, along with quiet chanting and the crackle of flames._

'Precious lambs of God...'

_A small pink tongue licks nervously against the threads that keep lips sewn shut. Raven hair and grey skin mimic likewise and bandage covered hands grope for their twins'. Fingers intertwine and palms are pressed together, skin burning in the heat of the moment, from the fire around their feet, from the fire burning down the city around them. But he's safe from the fire, at least for the moment. It's _them _whose being crucified, but he was next, he was sure of it._

'It's the nature of us, Noahs...'

_The flames lick at leather pants and long skinny legs while pretty faces wince when flashing knives cut into exposed necks. Pretty, pretty faces with pretty, pretty eyes. But they'll all be nothing but ashes soon enough, won't they? Heart rates increase and sweat begins to roll when a large smile bobs in the darkness in the act of nodding. The small hands grip the knife tighter and delicate lips whisper cryptic words that only God and his Chosen Ones can understand. He can feel the power of the words and he _understands_ that this is what needs to happen. But there's a voice in the back of his head, yelling for this to stop. It's not right, it's not right, the voice cries indignantly, but he ignores it. His face is calm, but his eyes are wild and blazing with anticipation._

_Drums beat in time with rapid heartbeats all around. But two especially quick heartbeats are cut short by the quick jerk of a small hand and all the other heartbeats accelerate even more. Blood gushes and mingles with the fire, crackling noisily, but he knows its for God. It's not right, it's not right, the voice continues to cry. The smell of burning flesh and leather is drifting into the nighttime air, into his lungs, and he feels a wave of nausea crash over him. He watches the brightness fade out of twin golden eyes. Blond and raven locks are sizzling away to the fire, skin is cracking and decomposing, as lifeless heads lull to and fro upon their limp necks. He feels a distant pang of agony in his chest when a white skull is revealed under peeling ashen skin and black locks of hair._

_The small hands turn the knife towards him and his heart is going crazy, completely off beat with the drums and chanting, because he doesn't want to end up like them. It's not right, it's not right, the voice is screeching, and he finds himself crying. Not for himself, but for the pretty face and raven locks, for the stubborn personality and common use of curse words. He's sobbing now. He's fallen to the floor with his head in his hands, because the voice is right. It's not right, it's not right._

_But the knife is at his neck now and a soft voice is in his ear, telling him_ 'It'll be all right- it's the nature of us Noahs. You should know this, you chose this. You have the power to choose all things in this world, and this is what you have chosen. We're the precious lambs of god,-'_ But he whines for raven locks and golden eyes and the soft voice isn't so soft anymore as it chants louder and louder. He feels the knife digging into his neck, and he doesn't think of the boy with white hair, or his friends on the train. All he can think is how stupid he is for not listening to the voice screeching, It's not right, it's not right. Because now he's lost raven hair and he can't get it back because it's nothing but ashes and a sacrifice to God._

_Pain bursts from his forehead and it feels as though the stigmata are going to rip open and consume him and all he is, all they are and he barely registers the knife tearing apart his throat. Blood begins covering his expensive gentlemen's suit and it's splattering his tanned skin and charming beauty mark, staining his beautiful black curls as the world burns down around him._

_This is the truth, this is the apocalypse, this is the end...but it's just the beginning._

* * *

Golden eyes are staring, wide at the ceiling. His face is clam, but his heaving chest, panicked eyes, and sweat-slicked skin give away to his frenzy. His forehead is aching, stigmata burning with the promise of the apocalypse.

He sits up and stares hard at the floor, rubbing dried tears from his bloodshot eyes. His throat is hoarse from screaming and he feels lighteheaded.

The nightmare of the day when the Noah will be sacrificed is becoming an increasingly uncomforting occurence. Tyki's head is filled with images of each of the Noah having their throats slit like baby lambs, before their bodies are burned in the flames of a dying world. An image of Devit's hair stained with blood, eyes rolled back in his head as he bleeds heavily from his neck and forehead are a constant plague in Tyki's mind. He feels bile rising to his throat, and grabs for the bucket he put by his bedsides, specifically for this.

He shakes his black curls wildly to get the image out. '_It's what supposed to happen, dumbass,_' he tells himself. But the voice from his dream is still there, crying out, It's not right it's not right. He promptly ignores it. He gets to his feet and grabs his shirt off the chair pulling it around his shoulders without bothering to button it. He leaves his dark room and heads down the hallway, towards the staircase and to the kitchen. The sound of yells, screams, and maniac laughter greet him, and he's glad he has his cigarettes at hand. He pulls one out and lights it before inhaling deeply. The feeling of smoke swirling in his lungs is helping him calm down. He runs his free hand through sweaty curls and sighs. Days were long here.

* * *

A/N: D: Ah! Don't kill me, please.

But you may review?


	3. 2

_"The problem with people is that they're only human." -Bill Waterson_

* * *

Tyki enters the kitchen, ignoring the scene that greets him. Everyday is like this, he tells himself. And it'll continue to be like this until the apocalypse. He ignores the goosebumps he gets when he thinks of that day, and turns his mind to something else when Devit's bloody figure flashes through his vision.

Skin is yelling wildly about something, but is being ignored. He's slamming on the table with his large fists, raging loudly.

Lulu Bell is sipping a tall glass of milk from on top of the fridge, and Tyki would be surprised if it weren't Lulu Bell. She's watching the scene with a bored look, twirling a strand of hair around a gloved finger. Tyki nods absently at her, and she stares blankly back.

Rhode is alternating between whining and warning, the whines directed at the large pile of homework in front of her, the warns to Jasdevi and their flying eggs. Her books are lying open, but Tyki notes that the pages are empty. He's glad he never had to go to school.

Jasdero is crouching behind his chair, squealing wildly and throwing handfuls of food, not bothering to dodge the breakfast items that came flying at his face. He screeches loudly whenever something hits him, grinning ear to ear. His blond hair is adorned with all kinds of food, ranging from eggs to bacon to curdled milk.

Devit is behind his own chair, laughing and throwing curses into his giggles as he skillfully dodges oncoming projectiles. His purple coat is draped on his chair, leaving his white tanktop free to get covered in food and whatever else it is that the twins are throwing. Tyki can't help the small smile that falls on his face at the sight of the younger Noah, but the smile turns to a grimace of disgust at the food splatters on Devit's shirt.

He braces himself for the several voices that'll erupt once his prescence is noticed. It's a daily tradition, breakfast with the Noahs. He takes a deep breath and makes a determined bee-line for the counter on the other side of the room. He makes it as far as pouring himself a cup of coffee, before the fiasco begins.

"Tyyyyykkkkiii, there's sooooo much homework. Be a doll and help me?"

Tyki takes a dainty sip of his beverage and takes his seat, putting some non-thrown eggs onto his own plate. Homework is inconspicuously being shoved under his nose and his view is obscured by maps of the world and words he couldn't care less about.

"Stupid Tyki, stupid Tyki, hii! Pass 'Dero that carton of milk!"

A puff of his cigarette accompanies the sugar he puts into his coffee as he pushes the geography book down with his forefinger. He takes a small spoon and stirs gently, reaching for the paper that is neglected in Lulu Bell's usual spot at the table. His hand brushes by the carton of milk, and he promptly ignores it.

"Hey bastard! Hey! Don't ignore me! I'll fuckin' kill you!"

He ignores him, smirking inwardly. An egg comes soaring for his head and hits the back of his chair dejectedly when it passes straight through black curls. Tyki clears his throat, takes another sip of coffee, and opens the paper, flipping through boredly.

The obituaries look interesting today, Tyki decides. Pictures and prayers adorn the newsprit, and he wonders how many of these people were killed by him. Being drunk when sent on missions does things to one's memory, afterall.

"Tyykkkiii answer me!"

"Good morning, Rhode."

He finds himself being choked by a small pair of arms that are wrapped around his throat as a voice squeals in his ear.

"Tyki~ I have all this homework and no one to do it."

"Do it yourself."

"Eh?! But it's too early~!"

"When is it due?"

"Today."

"Well, you better hurry."

He winces when a delicate hand finds its way into his curls and grips a handful fiercely. "If you don't do it, I'll sulk."

"Ah?" Tyki grimaces when he remembers the last time Rhode sulked. Nobody had been able to sleep those nights. He sighs and puts down the newspaper, reaching for the geography book and a pencil. Rhode squeals happily in his ear and heads back to her seat, sitting delicately, obviously proud of her tactics.

Tyki stares at the paper dumbly, letters raping his eyes. How the hell is he supposed to know when the French Revolution was? He shrugs and scribbles down a couple numbers in the blanks, proud of how the shape of his 3's come out. But his vision is soon obscured by an ashen face, with narrowed, angry golden eyes that are glaring at him.

"Good morning, twins."

"Bastard! You ignored me!"

Tyki continues to scribble numbers on the page, despite the fact he can't see what he's writing due to the face shoved into his.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?" Tyki asks innocently, continuing to doodle on the page. Devit grabs the sides of his face and tries to force his eyes upward, but Tyki just lets his hands phase through. Devit lets out a string of curses as he pulls away, and the next thing Tyki knows, both twins are on the table, pointing the guns at his head, veins popping visibly out on their foreheads.

He knows the words 'Blue Bomb' are on their lips, so he grabs Devit's wrist and wrenches it backwards, dropping his pencil in the proccess. The younger Noah cries out and Jasdero is now on Tyki's back, attempting to pummel the side of his head while screeching wildly.

"My, my! Already so noisy at this time in the morning, my children~?"

Everyone in the room is frozen at the voice. Jasdero slids off Tyki's back and crashes into the floor, and Tyki releases his hold on Devit's wrist. The revolver is lowered to the boy's side.

"Good morning, Earl-tama," Tyi says, sitting back down in his seat and recovering his abandoned pencil. Other 'good morning's are muttered as the Noahs return to their seats. Rhode leaps from her chair and scrambles onto the Earl's considerable bulk, settling happily on his shoulders as she plants a kiss on his cheek.

The Earl pats her on the head and lifts her up, setting her back in her chair before waddling over to his own spot and sitting.

"How has everyone's morning been? Good, I hope~"

A few more mutters are emitted by Jasdevi, who shift in their chairs and push their food around their plates in their form of sulking. Jasdero examines the tips of his hair and Devit glares at his eggs. Tyki chuckles and replies, "Just fine, Earl-tama."

"I'm glad to hear~!" The large man takes a moment to pause and bring his fork to his large smile. There are a few beats of silence, before he says, "I have some exciting news, my children."

Jasdevi looks up from their activities, and even Lulu bell raises her head in curiosity.

"Though we were delayed earlier by those pesky Excorsists, everything has been set back in motion. Once the rest of the family returns from their missions in approximately three weeks, it is time for _that_ day."

And the room rings with those words and there are grins on all faces but one. Tyki needs to puke again.

* * *

A/N: Urgh.


	4. 3

Tyki makes it to his room, acting in what he thinks was a pretty normal manner. He closes the door and leans heavily against it, blinking slowly and taking deep breaths. His heart is racing at top speeds in his chest and his stomach is doing flips while his brain buzzes with rapid thought process. The nausea is still present but he manages to keep his vomit down, but he isn't sure for how much longer he can keep this up.

An image of Devit's burning body fills his vision once more, and he pushes off from the door and heads for his closet. He has to veer off to his bedside bucket and wrech up his coffee.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and continues to his closet. He pulls out a large bag and throws it on his bed, heading to his dresser.

Pictures of his human friends smile up at him, and they look oh-so inviting right now. But next to those are family portraits, and he finds himself smiling softly. Rhode is on Jasdero's back, trying to pry her lollipop from his long golden hair. His hands are clutching around hers, in the process of scrabbling wildly. His face is stained with tears, his sewn mouth straining against its bonds as he screeches loudly. Devit is next to him, looking alarmed, diving for the lollipop himself, while Tyki simply sits, reading a book and smoking.

He looks up from the pictures to look at himself in the mirror and grimaces. His hair is sticking to his forehead from sweat, and his eyes are lined with black bags. He looks an awful lot like the twins, he muses. He looks back down at the pictures, and stares for a moment, his smile slowly turning into a frown when he sees one of Rhode donning one of the Earl's hats.

He places the photo face down, and begins rummaging through his drawers, grabbing random shirts and slipping his white-form glasses into his pocket, in case he neds them.

"My, now where could you be off to, Tyki?"

Tyki starts, and turns around quickly, seeing Lulu Bell perched ontop of his couch, legs crossed delicately. He purses his lips and says nothing, casually turning back to his dresser and shifting items around to look busy before turning and walking to where his bag lies on his bed.

He places the clothes into the case carefully, before replying nonchalantly. "I'm going to work in the mines with some friends for a while."

He can't see her face, but he can hear the sarcasm dripping in her voice. "Why, of course you are. Disregard the fact that _that day_ is in...what was it? Three weeks?"

Tyki again says nothing and goes to his bathroom, grabbing his tooth brush and turning to leave once again. But Lulu Bell is leaning in the doorway, an odd smile on her face as she pushes herself off and saunters over to him. He keeps his face blank as she stops- too close to him for his liking- and reaches a gloved white hand up to his cheek. The contrast of white to his grey skin seems to please her as fingers trace his jawline and move down his neck, tapping his collarbone lightly before moving to his shoulder. There her fingers claw into his arm, ripping down harshly as her expression turns from curious to cold. Tyki stumbles back in surprise as his sleeve rips off and his skin is scratched lighly.

Lulu Bell's face is hardened in distrust as she drops the sleeve with a grimace and advances . "Oh, Tyki," She coos, placing one foot in front of the other. "Is he really worth it?"

Tyki frowns, uninjured hand on his exposed arm.

"He's just a child..and even if you run, he'll be on that cross soon enough. We're Noah. This is what we're made for, don't you know that?"

She pauses, the same odd smile flickering across her features. "Of course you do. Now unpack your bags so I can take a nap."

"You know I can't do that."

She nods lazily and shrugs, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. "I know."

---

Tyki is panting and he finds his sudden- and now constant- need for his bucket obnoxious. He feels woozy from the lack of substance in his stomach, and tears are rolling from his eyes. His stomach is in pain- and he knows its not simply from his nausea. A feel of dread is pooling in his gut.

He wipes away his tears, but they keep coming. He feels a distant pang of sadness, but his determination is overruling it. He slowly finishes packing his things, zipping up the case and stepping over the stains in his carpet. He softly closes his door, running a hand through his hair and lighting himself a cigarette.

Lulu Bell's mangled body is lying in the center of his room. Her legs are bent the wrong way and her stomach has one long gash through it, her red-dyed ribs peeking through. And her pretty, pretty blonde hair is stained the same color as her discarded heart, lying by her blank, glass-covered eyes. Tyki thinks back and decides he might have overdone it- even if just by a bit. Perhaps he should have washed his hands better, he thinks, looking down at the ashen skin. But they look clean, if not a little dry. He can still feel the blood on them- still feel her heart in them.

But she had threatened the one thing he cares about most, and well..he just couldn't let her get away with that. If only he could rid himself of these blasted tears.

--

"What the Hell do you want, bastard?" Comes the voice from behind the door. Tyki smiles softly to himself and leans against the wall by it.

"The Earl wants us to go hunt some Excorsists. C'mon out, brats."

"Go away!"

Tyki frowns and chooses to no longer touch the dry wall against his back. He glides into the room backwards, frowning at the smell of dirty clothes, old blood, and nailpolish. He hears two cries of protest as he strides over and takes a seat in the only clean chair in the room, fixing his eyes onto the twins, who are lying on the floor.

Their eyes are brimming over with tears- a Noah's natural reaction to losing one of their own. Mascara and eyeliner are running down their cheeks, Devit furiously wiping them away on his sleeve while Jasdero wailed wildly.

"G-get the fuck out!" Devit yells, sitting up and brandishing his weapon, Jasdero mirroring his movement.

"I would love to, brats. But the Earl wants us to go, and now. So pack up and hurry up." Tyki takes another puff of his cigarette and blows lightly into the air, letting the smell mingle with the other scents that dominate his senses. It improves the stench, in Tyki's opinion.

"Jasdevi doesn't want to go on a mission with you, hii!" Jasdero cries indignantly, wiping away a trail of snot coming from his nose.

"And I don't want to go on a mission with you either. But an orders and order."

Both twins are quiet for a moment, before Devit growls and gets to his feet, swiping once again at his eyes before storming over to the bathroom and slamming the door once Jasdero scrambles in.

"Fine. We'll be there in 5 minutes, ya bastard. Now get the fuck out of here."

Tyki gets up, gives his cigarette one last puff and throws it to the ground, quickly extinguishing it with the toe of his shoe. "My pleasure."

And everything's set in motion.

* * *

A/N: Lulu's prolly OOC. I don't watch the anime for DGM, so I only saw her for those few chapters in the manga. So yeah...

Review? :3


	5. 4

_He's on his knees, one eye swollen shut and crusted with blood while the other stared up at him in acceptance. Blood adorns his signature scar, runs down a pale neck, mingles with snow white hair. He should be in pain- he should be crying and begging for mercy in the prescence of the __**true**__ God. But he's smiling, __**smiling**__, his eyes soft and filled with pity._

_It makes Tyki sick, the way the snow-esque boy is looking at him in such an understanding way, as if saying 'It's all right, it's all right.' It made him feel nauseous and his heart is speeding up._

_Snow White doesn't understand. How could he ever understand? He's not one of them, he's not cursed in the same way they are. He thinks he understands Tyki, but Tyki knows better. He thinks he can save Tyki and his family, but now Tyki knows he can't._

_Tyki had been counting on him to be his knight in shining armor, to save him and Devit and everyone from having to do this. From having to destroy this world, these people...themselves._

_But Snow White failed and now here he is, a perfect picture of pathetic defeat and acceptance of the enivitable- Tyki supposes he should be the same, but he can't find it in himself to give up. And Snow White is staring at him with those large, blue eyes- pitying him, taunting him...dooming him._

_Tyki's eyes narrow and he stares back at Snow White until something in him snaps, and a voice laced in darkness emerges from a corner of his brain and says, 'Do it.' It's suffocating him and dragging his mind away the best it can from all rhyme and reason. And it's succeeding. Tyki lets out an inhuman sound, and he finds himself staring at a pair of bright blue eyeballs in the palm of his hand while Snow White lets out a screech of agony, pale fingers scrabbling at gaping black holes while a lighter voice is trying to claw Tyki's mind back from the darkness, screaming, 'It's not right! It's not right!' while the dark voice is cackling in glee while tugging back stubbornly._

_Tyki's brain is being pulled by two forces, the dark and the light, and he howls once in pain before his whole body is torn in half and he explodes with a bright flash before being swallowed into darkness._

* * *

"Wake the fuck up!"

Tyki's eyes snap open and he sits up in panic, knocking heads with Devit, who growls incoherently and scrambles backwards, cradling his head in his hands. Tyki would have smirked had he not been drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. The alternating light and dark voices are still echoing faintly in his head, and his head aches in remeberance of the dream.

He blinks several times, blatantly ignoring Devit as he yells and curses at Tyki, in favor of examining where he is. He's in a small cabin, with a triple bunk bed shoved in one corner, and a small desk inthe other. A dirty, plastic door is across from him, a door, he supposes, that leads to the bathroom, and a small porthole is next to that. Jasdero is hanging out the window, emptying the contents of his stomach into the ocean below. Tyki grimaces in disgust and sends a questioning look at Devit, who shrugs and says, "Dero gets sea sick."

Tyki says nothing and gets up, rubbing the crust from his eyes while he plods out of the room and into the thin hallway, ignoring Devit's insistent mumbling and Jasdero's wreching. Tyki makes his way down the hall, looking out the nearest porthole at the blue, blue ocean.

'_Was it really the best choice to leave, Tyki ol' pal?_" The dark voice is back, purring softly in his ear, and Tyki feels the same tugging sensation from his dream. '_This is just /silly/, don't you think? All this running and running...do you really think the Earl doesn't know where you are?_'

Tyki stops walking as his stomach lurches uncomfortably as the ship jerks to a stop. He looks out the porthole and sees a brown structure, a dock, in the midst of blue, blue ocean, and he sees a group of people boarding the boat from where he is. They look vaguely familiar, he thinks, but his mind is swimming and the dark voice is still whispering, and filled with a new intensity. He's about to turn away from the porthole and head back to the room, to talk to Jasdevi and possibly clear his head, when he sees a flash of pale white on the edge of his peripheral vision.

His heart gives an especially fierce beat as his head snaps back to the porthole, his eyes glazing over as he follows the figure as it climbs onto the boat, before his expression hardens and he heads away from the room with a new drive.

* * *

"This sucks," Devit announces brilliantly.

A pained groan is his response as Jasdero slids himself back from where he was leaning out of the porthole, double-over, in a chair. He nods wearily in agreement with his twin's declaration. Devit is sprawled out on Tyki's bed, glaring at the springs of the mattress above him with anger at his boredom.

"Stupid fucking hobo Tyki's been gone for a whole hour," Devit continues, rolling onto his stomach and regarding his brother across the room. Jasdero is bending over his knees and pulling at his split ends, trying to distract himself from his stomach's painful way of rejecting sea travel.

Devit stares at him for a full minute, before sitting up quickly, knocking his head on the bed above him. He lets out a yelp of pain, hands once again grasping his already bruised forehead, grumbling as Jasdero begins to giggle wildly, seemingly forgetting his illness. Devit gets to his feet, throwing his brother a death glare before opening the doorway to the hallway outside.

"I'm going to find Tyki," He declares with a sense of finality, stepping into the hall and holding the door open for Jasdero, who stares up at him with wide, curious eyes. "I want him to buy us food."

Jasdero bobs his head in agreement and scrambles to his feet, taking his place at his brother's side and the two take off down the hall, ignoring the strange looks they get from their fellow passengers.

* * *

Tyki regards the boy across from his from behind his glass of brandy, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke filling his nostrils. The boy is the same from his dream, with the snow white hair and pale skin, his delicate face pulled into a frown at their surroundings, his bright blue, blue eyes darting around the room in disapproval.

They are in the bar, smoke polluting the atmosphere, drunk rich men and women laughing loudly around them. The pale boy's friends are assembled not too far away, watching Tyki with a sense of apprehension, as if they expected him to sick his Teeze on them at any moment. Tyki almost laughs at them and their insecurity, but keeps his expression an amused smile as he puts down his glass and and finally speaks.

"Allen Walker."

The pale boy, Allen by name, replies in like, "Lord Tyki Mikk."

Silence follows as Tyki takes a deep puff of his cigarette, swirling his brandy in its glass and watching the small whirlpool that he creates in vague fascination. Walker is visibly squirming in his seat in an uncomfortable manner, and Tyki knows he wants Tyki to talk more.

Tyki's not in the mood to oblige him.

Allen only lasts for a few more moments, before he asks in a cold, demanding voice, "What are you doing here?"

Tyki takes a sip of his beverage before setting it down and waving his hand vaguely in the air, "Just taking a small vacation."

"By yourself?"

"Of course," Tyki replies. He doesn't know why he's lying- he supposes he would rather no one know that Jasdevi are here. The Excorsists may be tolerating Tyki by himself, but if more Noah were to arrive, the results could be a good old fashioned brawl.

Walker looks skeptical, before he looks back at his friends, most of whom Tyki recognizes. He sees the girly looking Japanese boy- Yuu Kanda, wasn't it? Beside him is the boy with the eyepatch, his fingers trailing over the small mallet in his pocket, while the pretty Chinese girl is glaring at Tyki with an untrusting look.

Tyki smiles in the same amused manner at all of them, but his smile quickly drops when he hears banging and voices from outside the bar. He groans inwardly and turns to the doors, where all the other eyes in the room are focused.

The door is kicked open in a flourish, and Tyki bolts to his feet in alarm, while the Excorsists at his back pull out their Innocence and the civilians scatter in panic.

Skin Boric is standing there in all his muscular glory, one twin thrown over each of his shoulders, a strange ball of gold in one of his hands. Devit is screaming obscenities and pounding against his back, and Tyki can only pick out a few select words: "Bastard...down...sick...pistols...fuck!"

Jasdero is on the other shoulder, his hand clamped over his mouth and his skin a strange, pale tone, and Tyki guesses he's simply seasick again. Tyki squints his eyes and notices the golden ball is the remains of the twins' pistols, crumpled and melted together into a glittering sphere.

Skin strides across the room, growling out, "End of playtime, Tyki. Time to go back to Edo."


End file.
